


All or Nothing

by DraconicSeraphim



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Phone Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicSeraphim/pseuds/DraconicSeraphim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd started out with a rule. All or Nothing. And it slowly became something else, something more like a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All or Nothing

They'd started out with a rule. _All or Nothing._

It had been Steve's idea, a way to guarantee that Bruce could not simply let himself fade into the background because he was too afraid of himself to try anything. Tony certainly hadn’t argued, not at first, though over time they realized it would become increasingly difficult with their conflicting schedules and that troublesome side job of saving the world on a regular basis. That was okay though. Over time Bruce became more comfortable and Tony more insatiable and the rule faded, obsolete for the most part. 

At least until Captain America was needed somewhere halfway across the country, usually doing PR for Fury. Or sometimes it would be Tony that was pulled away for god knows what by Pepper. Meetings, schmoozing with potential business partners halfway around the world, opening new galleries or charities or one of a thousand other things. 

It had been a little awkward, the first time, when it had been Bruce halfway around the world for no reason other than the fact that he couldn’t stand being cooped up in the tower, the city, for so long. When he was feeling particularly guilty, this time after a letter from Betty, (Tony knew, of course he knew, he saw all of Bruce’s mail since most of it came ℅ Tony Stark) and Bruce needed to lose himself somewhere. So he’d found some minor natural disaster in South America, found somewhere he thought he could help, knew he could use his medical knowledge and his genius and see lives being saved by his hands. He’d escaped the constant rush of the city which somehow, with all its pollution and grime felt dirtier than when he was knee deep in brown water, wading through flooded lowlands looking for survivors of a mudslide. 

It was awkward because he wasn’t in some swanky hotel room like Tony and Steve always were, he was in a damp tent, cramped with medical equipment and had to speak in a hushed whisper and even then a couple of the women had given him curious glances the next day. But that had been months ago and somewhere along the way Tony’s shamelessness had infected them all to varying degrees. Tony of course never had a problem with it. Bruce’s ability to step back and fall into his clinical “lab voice” to keep himself from getting too flustered about _anything_ applied to this as well and he had been surprised to learn that Steve found that tone just as appealing as Tony did. Steve still blushed and stammered through things most of the time, open only in his agreement to the others’ ideas and even then it was impossible not to hear the chagrined smile in his voice. 

It always started the same way. One of them would call the other, and this time it was Tony dialing Bruce’s phone for him, calling Steve who was off somewhere in the middle of the country, PR stuff and they knew how much Steve disliked it, being a dancing monkey all over again. It was an apology, an offer, a way to make it better and remind him how much more he was now, how much more he was to them.

“All or nothing~” Tony smirks into the phone and it is nine o’clock on a week night so he is automatically assuming Steve is bored and alone in his hotel room. Because Steve doesn’t go out and have fun (without them) and because really what is there to do for fun in the ‘great plains’ states anyway? Cow tipping?

Bruce has to assume the response is something in the affirmative (or at least close enough for Tony) because the phone is being tossed down onto the bed next to Bruce and Tony is immediately tugging his shirt off too, picking up where they’d left off in the process of undressing. 

“He’s so impatient.” Bruce smiles as he says it, the phone barely having time to hit the bed before he has it pressed to his ear. Steve chuckles softly, the sound slightly strained, telling of how badly the day has gone, and hums his agreement even as Bruce lifts his hips so that Tony can tug his pants down, grinning wickedly as always, ever amused by the fact that the good doctor rarely wears underwear. 

“And you’re a tease.” Tony huffs in mock irritation, shifting back to finish removing his own pants as well. 

“Did you hear that Steve? He called me a tease.” The physicist tries to sound indignant but there is a measure of satisfaction in his voice that he cannot hide. Which has Steve laughing, the sound muffled and distant and Bruce knows it is because he is hurriedly undressing as well.

“That’s because you _are._ ” Shirtless and smiling and that little note of tension in Steve’s simple hum was already replaced by something different, something far more enjoyable.

“You never seem to complain.” Steve and Tony both laugh at that, Tony’s eyes rolling in a way that says ‘Why the hell would we?’ even if his mouth is busy trailing kisses down the inside of Bruce’s thigh, scrapping teeth lightly over sensitive skin. Lightly and then abruptly, nipping at the pale skin, making Bruce arch and suck in a sharp gasp.

“What’s he doing?” Steve’s voice is low, curious and wanting. It draws a small pleased sound from Bruce. He can remember a time not so long ago when Steve would’ve been too shy to ask that.

“Kissing my thighs... being a _tease._ ” The last is meant for Tony and the final word comes out breathlessly as the other man ghosts a breath out over Bruce’s length but doesn’t come close to touching him. 

“Good.” In his ear.

“You deserve it.” From between his legs.

Damn them both.

“Not telling him you said that.” And even he’s not sure who he’s talking to.

“He agrees with me, doesn’t he?” Tony sounds far too pleased with himself and Bruce decides it’s in his best interest not to answer that. Instead he occupies himself with twisting around on the bed a little, pinning the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he reaches for the bedside table, fishing out a bottle of lube and tossing it onto the bed. Tony’s not the only one that can lack subtlety. 

“You like knowing what’s going on and not telling us, don’t you?” There’s amusement in Steve’s voice that makes Bruce smile just to hear it. Between that and Tony’s hands spilling down his thighs, over his hips, slowly up his sides, he’s arching slightly and humming contentedly. Bruce isn’t usually terribly vocal but for this he can be, to hear that tension and displeasure melt out of Steve’s voice, mold it into something breathless and needy just for them... For this he can be. 

“You caught me.” And the note of smugness in his voice is entirely Tony’s fault and they all know it, even Tony who doesn’t know what Steve said but that tone can only be his influence.

“You know you aren’t very subtle, Dr. Banner.” Tony’s leaning close enough over him that he knows Steve will hear that, knows the blond will shudder at the low, rich spill of Tony’s voice just as surely as he does. Then he’s leaning up, kissing the other man lightly, moaning into it for Steve’s benefit even though he knows Tony won’t allow it for long. Sure enough he barely gets a taste of that wicked tongue before Tony is pulling away, tsking him softly. “None of that~ You’re supposed to be telling Steve what I’m doing to you, isn’t that right, Steve?”

He’s still close enough, Steve hears it, they both know Tony’s going to keep talking though. But his lips are trailing down Bruce’s throat so after a brief expectant pause Steve laughs, a little breathlessly. “Oh I think I can guess what he’s doing.”

“Oh can you?” And it’s a challenge, one that makes Tony grin against the skin of Bruce’s throat and the doctor’s next breath is a sharp gasp, a strangled little moan catching in his throat.

“He bit you didn’t he?” This time it’s Steve’s turn to sound smug. “On your neck... That spot, over your pulse, right?” 

Bruce almost nods, catches himself and he has to clear his throat before breathing out a rough “Yeah.” He’s supposed to be talking more but it’s so rare for Steve to start talking this much that he can’t bring himself to interrupt.

“That...” The certainty in Steve’s voice wavers and Bruce smiles, he knows exactly what the blond is thinking of, wondering if he can bring himself to say it. “That’s... a good spot...” He must be blushing, embarrassed that he’s still not quite cut out for this. But that’s okay because Bruce knows exactly what to say now and he glances down at Tony, nudging the other man’s side with his knee, a silent indicator for him to hurry the hell up... Which was likely going to be counterproductive but he could try anyway.

“It is a good spot.” Voice even and steady, the shift in his tone from conversational, playful, to something a bit more professional is enough for both men to know that Bruce has something in mind, something that will take him time to tell. “You both like that spot... Tony always has to leave a mark there, bruise it for you.”

A low moan as Tony finally sits back between Bruce’s legs, urging him to spread them a little wider as he opens the bottle of lube. “You know he does that for you, don’t you Steve?” And Bruce has to roll his eyes a little when Tony flashes a grin at him, slick fingers sliding over his entrance as though Bruce deserves a reward for recognizing that. “Because he knows how much you like to hold me there, cradle my throat like that, feel the way I have to swallow around you.”

“Bruce...” Steve groans, the sound low and needy and Bruce’s triumph is only heightened when Tony presses a finger inside of him, tipping the doctor’s head back, arching his back slightly, pushing his hips back against the intrusion and echoing Steve’s groan with one of his own. 

His head lolls to the side, voice dropping lower, pressing the phone to the side of his face, licking his lips as if he could taste Steve if he only wanted it badly enough. “Steve... touch yourself for me... _lightly_...” A tiny quirk of lips, a sideways glance at Tony. “I’m a tease rememb- Ah!.” And then the finger inside of him curves just so and his entire body jerks with the jolt of pleasure.

“Oh god...” But he can’t get distracted by what Tony’s doing, by the finger- soon to be plural, inside of him. “And I would tease, too. Soft kisses, licks just a bit too light, nipping at your thighs...” A hiccup in his breathing and he has to swallow hard, catch his breath before he can continue. “I’d make you suffer as long as Tony makes me... Oh Steve, it’s not fair the things he does with hi-hnn... his fingers.”

“It’s not.” Agreement, he’s always so good with agreement at least, and even with his own words becoming a bit less steady Bruce can hear the impatience in Steve’s voice. “Tell him to do it already.” And Steve’s confident in that assertion because he knows how badly Bruce wants it and he knows Bruce really doesn’t need a whole lot of preparation, it’s not like they don’t do this often enough.

“Yes.” Bruce’s hips press down against Tony’s fingers again, shuddering before he lifts his head, fingers slipping a little on the phone. “Fuck me, Tony. Just do it already.” And he makes a point of using Steve’s words, eyes fluttering out of focus when he can hear Steve and Tony both groan at the same time.

“He tell you to say that?” Of course Tony can still make his voice something deep and sensual and thick enough that Bruce swears it should be something tangible that he can roll himself in like an expensive fur, exotic and luxurious against his skin. 

“Yes.” And even though Tony _knows_ Steve didn’t say ‘fuck’ he lets it go, lets his fingers slide out of Bruce and reach for the lube again. “Steve... I want to taste you. I wouldn’t let myself though. Not yet, not until- oh god.” Tony was waiting, timing it with Bruce’s words and they know it even if Bruce is too undone to realize it in that moment because then Tony is there, pressing into him, one hand a bruising grip on his hip. For a moment all any of them can do is moan, moan and pant and when Tony is finally completely inside of him Bruce whimpers softly into the phone. 

“Oh Steve he feels so good... so good. I know you know but _gods._ ” Bruce is breathless and his eyes flutter, half shut and distant, as if he can close them and pretend Steve really is there beside him not just on a phone, thousands of miles away. 

“Ask him.” Tony demands, still with that impressive voice and Bruce shudders, body tensing and dragging a moan from the other.

“Steve... he... he wants you to tell him how he should fuck me.” Which Steve answers with a deep groan and it’s a moment before he can properly answer that, swallowing hard enough that Bruce can hear it. 

“Hard and deep and... slow enough to almost be a tease.” Another whimper and Bruce’s hips jerk against Tony’s hold. Steve doesn’t need to say it, the ‘just like I do’ that could follow that command is silent between them but they both know it’s there.

Then Bruce is repeating those words, crying out sharply at the first powerful thrust of Tony inside of him. 

“Bruce...” Steve breathes out his name and the doctor arches, an inarticulate jumble of sounds escaping him because he doesn’t know whose name he should be moaning now. Because Tony is inside of him, hands on his thighs, holding him open as he thrusts, slow and steady and each one makes his eyes roll back. Because Steve is moaning his name and Bruce wants him so badly he swears he can almost taste the other man on his tongue, thick and heady. 

So he doesn’t offer either of them a name, instead he lifts the hand not holding the phone and instead of touching his own neglected cock he brings his hand up to press his fingers over his throat, letting his thumb settle firmly over the mark Tony’d left on his skin. Just like Steve would do, even if it’s the opposite direction. And then words are spilling from his lips, somewhat incoherent because speaking is usually the last thing on his mind like this.

“I’d want you in my mouth. Hah- yes. Your hand in my hair, on my throat... on... on T-Tony's bruises. G-God Steve." But the next gasp became a startled noise of surprise as Tony yanked the phone out of his hand, punching a button on the touchscreen, flipping it to speaker phone and throwing it onto the bed beside them. And then Tony’s hips were moving faster, drawing a groan from Bruce and Tony grinned wickedly again. 

“Problem there, Banner.” That sinfully decadent tone Tony had perfected was just as effective breathless and stuttering as it was while the older man moved. “With his cock down your throat you wouldn’t be able to talk, now would you?” And as if to demonstrate his point Tony is leaning over Bruce again, hooking one leg up around his shoulder, pounding into him and pressing his fingers against the doctor’s full lips. 

“Oh hell, Tony... you...” Steve is just as breathless as the other two. The fact that he swore at all (and hell was the worst they’d ever gotten out of him despite Tony’s best efforts) was enough to tell Tony that he was already working himself pretty close, and that he knew exactly what Tony was doing, though the other man was going to tell him anyway.

“Fuck, Steve, you should see the way he sucks on my fingers.” Tony groans softly, pushing his fingers in deeper, shifting the angle of his thrusts a little so that the next muffled sound to leave Bruce is a sharp high whine. With his hands free of the phone Bruce’s hand drops down, skimming over his own body but then Tony is catching his wrist, pinning his hand to the bed. “He wants to touch himself, Steve... think we should let him?”

But Tony doesn’t give the blond time to answer. “Dunno, I think his hands would be busy with you... Would you touch him? Or would you be too busy pulling on those curls while you fuck his mouth, huh Stevie?” And they all know the answer, they all know that Tony fucking him so wonderfully hard and Steve buried in his mouth would be enough for Bruce and so right now with Tony’s fingers between his lips that would have to be enough for him.

Steve answers anyway, voice strained and low and breathless. “N-No... I wouldn’t. Don’t let him.”

“I won’t...Come on Bruce, just like this...” 

Tony’s breathing is more and more ragged but he’s determined to keep up the commentary no matter what and in the pause of a gasp Steve offers a desperate little “Please.” 

It’s enough and too much all at once. Bruce wrenches his head to the side, crying out abruptly as his orgasm crashes over him and Tony’s pace stutters at the sudden intensity of Bruce’s body clenching around him. “Fuck!”

But he doesn’t stop, he’s too close to stop. “Oh _fuck_ Steve... he’d pull away just like that when he came and you... oh, holy shit... Steve you’d come all over his face wouldn’t you, right behind him, so damn close aren’t you.” And Tony’s right because he barely finishes the sentence before Steve is moaning, sharp and sudden and it’s not quite Bruce’s name but it’s close and it’s enough to have Tony letting go as well, hissing out a quiet “yes” as he finally gives in, spilling himself inside of the smaller man.

Tony and Bruce are a panting sweaty heap, both of them dizzy with the intensity of it and two pairs of brown eyes staring longingly at the pale glow of the phone while they all try to catch their breaths. After a few long moments, a soft groan as Tony pulls out of him, a shuddering sigh as Steve finally draws his hand away from himself, Bruce speaks, throat raw from too much talking and from having Tony’s fingers to suck on.

“Steve...”

“Yeah...?” And there’s another moment of silence and this one is filled with things unsaid, deeper things than what any of them would allow to be voiced at all, things that are dangerous for superheroes to say. Words like love and miss and a thousand things they cannot say because it will only make it that much harder to go into each battle.

“Come home soon.”


End file.
